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Session 12
Summary After retrieving the cube to imprison the Fomorian Portal Lord, the PCs restocked the Leviathan Imperial. Included among the cargo were several casks of Dwarven Ale, a rarity in the Feywild that might trade for a mint. Loaded down with supplies, the ship took off and the ritual began. As the ritual completed, a flash and loud boom knocked the crew off their feet. Recovering, they noticed they were no longer in Aria...and no longer moving. The leap to the Feywild drained the Leviathan's arcane core, rendering it motionless but still afloat some 300 feet above the forests of the Feywild. As the crew's arcanist and runepriest began work on the core, Harold Eagle-Eyes atop the lookout station noticed several large, flying creatures approaching on the horizon. Without thrust, the party could do nothing but watch the 8 chromatic dragons approach the ship. Wrathfire, a red elder dragon, wasted no time on introductions. "You are aboard a ship the belongs to our great mother, Tiamat. We know what you carry, we know what you have. Surrender your positions and ship and leave with your leaves." The crews' attempts to parlay were met with initiative checks and several elder dragons advancing on the ship. "Harold, look out!" shouted Gromthal, as a swath of green breath blew across the deck. Before he could react, Harold met a quick demise within the ardent flames of the green dragon, followed by several other crew members as they leaped for their weapons. The party began defending themselves. As Matheas' turn drew close, he whisked his cloak about him, and with a poof of smoke took on the visage of an ebony dragonkin. "Wrathfire, your goddess stands before you," he intoned, hoping to fool the dragon into a temporary retreat. "Cease your agressions, these warriors are on a pursuit in my name!" A momentary pause from two of the dragons gave the party hope. It would be fleeting; Wrathfire let forth a tremendous bellow of draconic tongue and the temporary reprieve ended with another volley of frost and acid spray across the deck of the Leviathan. A whole in the side of the Leviathan was opened and the brown dragon's breath ripped through the second floor. Twenty crew members, maybe more, had but seconds to scream before they evaporated where they stood. Above deck, the fight waged on. The rogue's dagger hit its mark in the brown dragons left eye, causing momentary blindness. Suddenly, the entire ship lurched. "We've almost got'er!" shouted the artificer from his reinforced third level. "Buy us just a bit more time." "Easy for him to say," said Vimak, pulling his warhammer above his head as he took on the form of a mountain in defense. "He's not about to become dinner!" With a cry of war, Vimak landed a blow against the blue dragon just as his breath released a stream of ice across the Leviathans' port side. With the illusory cloak still around him, Matheas pulled the arcane fibers from within his decades old body and prepared for one last attempt at deceit. Small stormclouds circled his feet shooting lightning up his legs, a simple cantrip he used to amuse the children of the court at home. A shower of ebony sparks exploded just feet in front of Wrathfire's nose, another parlor trick, but this time they remained, hovering as the visage of Tiamat just inches from the red dragon's snout. An arcane voice bellowed from the visage, "Wrathfire, your goddess commands you! Withdraw at once!" The red dragon paused. With a bellow, he swooped to his left, commanding the dragonflight to follow. As they grouped up, their combined breath piered the side of the Leviathan Imperial, vaporizing a twenty foot section of the hull. As the breath dissipated, the party saw little but the tails of eight dragons shimmering in the Fey sun as the flew east, their destination unknown. A short rest in order, the party took stock of what was lost. Their captain, half their crew, gone...but they still held their own skins intact. The cleric began the ritual to bring the newly deceased captain back from the Astral Sea. With the ritual nearly complete, a shadow overtook the deck of the Levithan. Sudden dread overtook the crew, fearing the dragons' return. As they stared into the Fey sun, only three forms were visible this time, each riding a lionhawk (?). The tallest of the Eladrin riders dismounted and approached. "You summoned us, Vimak, Child of the North Wind?" Taking note of the crew's appearance, he continued. "What is the meaning of this? What happened here today?" Vonavin, sitting on the opposite end of the deck atop a cannon mount, let out a hearty laugh as he lowered his tankard. "Well, it's funny you should ask that, mates. We've just encountered a pack of dragons!" "Dragons?!" said the Eladrin scout in astonishment. "Yes. Sev...er, eight, to be exact." slurred Vonavin, already feeling the effects of his inebriation. "A red one, a brown one, a couple of, um, I think, er..." "Silence, fool," shouted Vimak. "Eight? All the broods, combined at once?" asked the scout. "Our lady will certainly want to hear about this. Come with us, we will escort you to our city and you may inform the Summer Queen herself." As he finished, the ship took another giant lurch, this time continuing to move after the abrupt jump. "We got 'er working again!" shouted the runepriest as he ascended the stairs from below. "But we'll need to keep 'er under 20 ticks 'er she'll fly apart. Third deck's held together with 2 nails and the belt of the poor feller we picked up over at Djermore. Guess he won't be needin' it anymore, not much left of him anyways." With a disgusted look, the other two scouts dismounted and came over. "On our way," the first said, "we'll help repair what we can." "Great!" shouted Vonavin as he sprang off the canon mount, teleporting as he hit the ground to appear near the stairs to the galley. "Hey, by any chance you guys had Dwarven Ale?" he asked, descending below deck. The Eladrin gave each other a side glance, before following their brethren to the galley below. Additional Summary After arriving in the Eladrin city of xxx, the party was informed that the Fomorian Portal Lord's name is Gorta Mal. He and Kicain Voshnar are wanted by the Eladrin as much as the party, so the Eladrin agree to hide the Leviathan and repair it while the party pursues their common enemy. First, however, there's the matter of a Feydark incursionn to deal with. The party approaches several ogres and ettins at the mouth of a cave that leads to the Feydark. Once dealt with, the party can continue their pursuit. Notes From the DM The ettin/ninja. It's like an ettin bred with a hobgoblin. They are slighty smaller, smarter and easily trainable than an regular ettin. The ettin you captured tells you they were sent out to raid by order of High Lord Ahgahvul. High Lord Ahgahvul is one of the High Lords of Veriscot. Veriscot is the Fomorian city the group needs to go. It's the one closet to the Eladrin city. The Eladrin city is called the Star of Summer in common. It is Chevlesttui in eladrin/elvish.